I like to think I’m immune to marketing. I can see through most advertisers attempts to convince me I need to “be cool, like these people.” But recently I discovered my weakness: I like to think of myself as an experienced outdoorsman. I like to imagine myself as the kind of guy that not only has the right gear for any occasion, but knows why he needs it, and values substance over flash.
The truth is…somewhat different. While our family loves hiking and spending time outdoors, we’ve never been on any hike longer than maybe 8 miles, 10 at the most. We go camping, usually once a year (except for the boys’ scout trips), and usually to places where we can drive up, not hike in. Sure, it’s no-frills camping (except the menu–we eat pretty well), but it’s a far cry from back-country camping where you live off of only what you carry in.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t want all the gear that would allow me to do that. I can make up for the fact that I don’t live the true outdoorsman life by at least knowing I could, right? It’s not like I’d be like those people who buy North Face jackets just to wear around town. I’d buy a brand more obscure but more functional, of course, and keep it stored away for the time when I’ll actually be able to use it. I don’t care if anyone else knows I’m an outdoorsy type, so long as I know.
Fact is, I was a lousy boy scout. I only got my Tenderfoot badge, albeit it twice. I’ve been on more campouts as a parent of boy scouts than I ever went on when I was one myself. As much as I think I would like to go camping more often than we do, would I really? Is it even all that feasible under my current circumstances? And by the time I have that kind of time will I still be in shape enough to do it?
Let’s face it. I love the idea of being an outdoorsman. I love the idea of owning the gear of an outdoorsman. But do I really have what it takes to be one? Probably not.
But our local outfitter sure has my number.